


I'm Just

by DontRememberMeForWhoIWas



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Don't Judge Me, Gen, I promise, I'm not actually depressed, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, References to Depression, Sadness, Yikes, basically just a look at will's mental state, beginning of byler?, enjoy though?, have fun with this one, i mean it's in there, idk - Freeform, implication of a homophobic slur?, implications of gay characters, more depressing than it was meant to be, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 19:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11042487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontRememberMeForWhoIWas/pseuds/DontRememberMeForWhoIWas
Summary: Will has been going through some serious mental issues after the Upside Down incident. All the while, he acts as though everything were normal. Not really... Reveal slugs fic. Byler? Probably. Idk. Don't judge by the summary, though.





	I'm Just

**Author's Note:**

> So like, I've had this idea for a little while. It kinda escalated pretty quickly. Just a lot of bad writing. I'm sorry. WARNINGS : May trigger suicidal thoughts. Take care of yourselves, por favor. :) Gracias.

“I’m just tired, mom.”

“I’m just not feeling too well right now, Mike. A glass of water would be nice, though.”

“I’m just thinking, Jonathan. Don’t be a worry-wart.”

“I’m just… trying to remember something, Dustin.”

_I’m just, I’m just, I’m just, I’m just…_

“I’m just trying.”

“I’m just really exhausted, Lucas.”

“I’m just nervous.”

“I’m just a little stressed.”

_I’m just, I’m just, I’m just, I’m…_

“I’m just fine, Mrs.Wheeler,” I smiled. “And you?”

She nodded and smiled kindly, “That’s good, and I’m well, thank you sweetie. The boys are downstairs, you can go join them.”

_‘I’m just’ is the new ‘I’m fine’. Nobody suspects, nobody notices, nobody cares; that’s how it should be. You’re just…_

The smile melted right off my face as soon as the entirely too convincing toothy grin had come. Still, the smile painfully returned as I bounded down the stairs. _Exhausting._

“Hey guys,” I said as I tossed my backpack into the corner of the room. _Act happy. Act insane. They’ll think you’re crazy, but they won’t know, you’re really just..._

Dustin and Lucas acknowledge my presence and return to bickering over comic books.

Mike looked up and rolled his eyes playfully, “Hey Will.”

“Hey Mike.” I flashed my teeth, and widened my eyes. _That’s the trick. The smile has to reach your eyes._ “How’s it going?”

“Well, as usual...” Mike’s voice drifted away, and all I could see was his smile. It seems so… genuine. My heart throbs as I realize that mine isn’t. Still, I nod and smile, as I should. Consistency is key in the art of lying…

_No, pretending. You’re pretending to be happy. You’re not lying. You’re just pretending. You’re just..._

“Will?” Mike asks. His smile is gone, and has been replaced by a worrisome expression. “You there, bud?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I shook my head, feeling the anxiety written on my face, “I’m just… I woke up a little late today is all.” I subconsciously pulled at my sleeves, still, smiling.

Mike frowned, “Don’t say sorry.” but continued, “What do you want to do today?... Since my mom said that we can’t play dungeons...”

“Oh, right. Uh. Are bike rides okay? I know it’s kinda simple, but...”

“Biking sounds great!” Mike cheered.

This caught the attention of Dustin and Lucas, which led to them darting out the door, their previous argument forgotten in favor of making it out the door first. Unfortunately, they both rammed into the doorframe, and turned out flopped on top of each other pancake style, a huge groaning mess.

_Laugh, Byers. Laugh!_

I laugh, alongside Mike. He shakes his head, hair swinging side to side, as he goes to grab for our backpacks. _Why are you letting him do you a service? That’s not right. Yell at him. Stop him. Let yourself do the dirty work. Get up, Byers._

I don’t stop him.

“Thanks.” I smile, again. Instead of handing me the backpack, he holds out his hand. _Grab your sleeve. Don’t let it come up. Why would he take your hand, Byers? You’re just a stupid little fa-_

“Thank you, good sire,” I grin.

“My pleasure, noble knight,” he practically giggled. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” I stood. He handed me the backpack, and I swung it over my free arm’s shoulder, my right hand enclasped in Mike’s warm fingers.

_Oh God. He’s still holding your hand. What if Dad sees you now, Will? What would he say? The usual, right? Worthless piece of shit. Why the fuck do you keep trying. Get your hand out. Don’t let it feel nice. You don’t deserve it. Stop. Get your hand out, Byers! Out! OUT!_

My hand reluctantly slips out of Mike’s hand as we near the top of the stairs. His smile lessens a bit, and mine is almost completely gone, a slight blush, surely replacing it. _Jesus. Christ._

He brightens up a bit as he explains the plan to Mrs.Wheeler.

“Be back by six, Mike. Your friends have to be home by eight, and they’re staying for dinner.”

“Alright, Mom.” he beamed, and I nodded, holding back a grimace. It’s only two o’ clock.

_Do you even realize how many different ways you could screw things up in that time? Excuses. Now. Get them. Find them. Make them. Something! Byers, keep it hidden. They can’t find your monsters. Not today. Not ever. Hide them, Byers, hide yourself- pull your sleeves up!_

Mike had already started walking towards the front yard, so I stumbled away from Mrs.Wheeler with a tight smile.

_Make it more genuine, Byers. Smile. Eyes big. Teeth out.... There you go._

“Where to today, fearless leader?” I playfully asked Mike as we walked our bikes away from the grass of his white picket fence house.

“I dunno.” he stopped to think, “Maybe the arcade?”

“Absolutely not!” Lucas yelled from the street, already on his way down the path away from the arcade.

“If you’re so bright, Sinclair, why don’t you tell us where we’re off to?” Dustin shouted, catching up.

“I just got major allowance, people. We’re getting the best shakes in town…. On me!”

I swear to God, I have never seen Mike run that fast, in my life. He practically pounced onto his bike, and wasted no time pushing his lanky legs to get past the other two.

_Oh, did they forget about you? Of course they did. What are you, Byers? You’ll have to remind me… I seem to have forgotten._

“Unimportant dishrag.”

_Lonesome, forgotten, what was it…?_

“Toe nail.” I chased after them, hateful words empowering me to just… _do better._

“Hey, guys! Wait!” I scrambled to get their attention. “Don’t get to Cherrie’s without me!”

_Why do you bother?_

“Dustin! Mike! Wait up!” Lucas slowed his pace. “Your fat asses can wait for the turtle!”

“As long as it’s the caramel kind!” Dustin whirled his way back around.

_Smile! They did you a favor. Did you hear that? You turtle. Maybe you should try actually getting into shape for once…. See? Mike won’t even stop. There he goes…. Sleeves!_

Mike turned his bike hurriedly, nearly collapsing to the pavement at a certainly, dangerous angle, biking his way back towards us in a frenzy.

“C’mon! What are we waiting for? We’ve gotta get to those peanut butter shakes A-S-A-P!” Mike was already pushing for the six mile ride we had ahead of us. With Mike’s back to us, we all just kind of pushed off to try catching up with the rabbit.

_Push it, Byers. Don’t disappoint him. Push it till you drop._

I was the first one to catch up to Mike. After two minutes of intensively riding, I looked back and saw Dustin and Lucas taking things easy about a half mile behind us. In a flash, I had passed an exhausted Michael Wheeler.

_Don’t let him hear you wheeze. Control your breathing. That’s it. Or don’t at all. That’s perfect._

I showed my teeth and bright eyes off to the stunned Mike behind me. “Catch me if you can!” was all I said before pushing myself further into exhaustion.

Mike sped up next to me, declaring a silent war, “Trust me, I can,” came his determined voice.

“Not if I can help it!” I exclaimed, my tiny legs pressing the tires further into the gravel, turning and spinning almost uncontrollably. “Just a few more blocks...”

Huffing, I let Mike fall behind. A trail of sweat came down my forehead. _Disgusting. Did you remember to put deodorant on? Oh God. I hope you did…._

“Jesus!” I screeched my tires to a sudden halt. My hands left the handles, and I realized far too late that I was headed straight for a bush…. Sideways.

“Will!” Mike hollered.

I heard his tires come to a stop somewhere to my left. I got up on my hands and knees, coughing. _Don’t cough, Byers. They can’t know. Stop fucking coughing._

_Too late._

Out came a slug, right there. In the mix of green, thorny bush, and cement that was the ground; a slug.

“Holy shit, Will,” Mike’s voice came out incredulous. “Will… I… Are you. Um.”

I looked up, my eyes probably bright with welling tears, and widely horrified. “You weren’t supposed to know, Mike, just go,” I rasped, fighting to sit on my knees. I looked down to my hands, and waited for his footsteps to go away. They didn’t. His hand touched mine, and I flinched away. Closing my eyes, letting a tear fall, “Mike. Please, leave. I know it’s freakish, but just leave me alone, please. Go get your milkshake. I’m just…. I’m okay, Mike,” I said, sure he would leave.

“Will,” his voice came soft. “Please, talk to me here. At least let me help you get up.” He grabbed my right elbow, and… My left wrist.

_Why would you **hiss** , Byers? Do you know how stupid that was? Oh look, now your sleeve is riding up, and…_

“Will.” Mike frowned. “Will,” he said more sternly. He was trying to get my attention. I gave it. Brown eyes met my hazel ones, and he lost it.

“Will,” he choked, “Tell me… Tell me that these,” he held my wrist up, carefully lowering my sleeve, further and further down, to my elbow. _Red scars, white scars, new scars, old. Deep scars, thin scars, overlapping, and more._ “Oh God. Will. You did these?” his voice was so brokenhearted, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I ripped my arm away from his grasp, “Don’t touch me,” I whispered. _Great, Byers. Just fantastic._

Avoiding eye contact, I backed away from him. A second later, I was running. Mike was shouting my name desperately somewhere behind me, but I didn’t care. I’m getting out of here. Now.

I stumbled my way through the trees, and I finally decided to look back. No one followed. I put my hands on my knees and bent over, wheezing out another slug.

“Shit, Mike was right.”

I jumped, still gagging, and practically twirled on my toes to see Lucas standing a few feet behind me.

“No,” I said. “No, get away from me.”

“Will, you’re bleeding.”

“I said, don’t get any closer.”

“Let us help you.” Lucas smiled, seeming genuinely concerned, but with that, he screamed for our other two friends, not even giving me a chance to limp away. Running through the trees on either other side of me, Dustin and Mike emerged, nearly at the same time.

“Stop it,” I pleaded with them. “Please, just leave me alone. I’m just, not doing too well. I can fix this!” I fell to the ground in defeat, though, knowing they were going to get to me anyway. _Pathetic._

“Will, we just want to help you, okay?” Dustin’s voice was comforting. “We have the first aid kit here, so we’ll start with your arm. Is that alright with you?”

Dustin was standing over me, now, and I looked up to see him. I nodded curtly, and looked away, accidentally making eye contact with Mike. He stood there, tears mixing with his freckles. I shuddered and coughed again. Nothing came out, but it sounded awful. Dustin and Lucas were getting to work on my arm, but I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore.

“Will?” Mike hesitated, stepping closer to me, unsure. “Why didn’t you talk to us?”

I sighed. I blinked. I clenched my fists. I dug my nails into my palms. I took another breath. I let it out.

I smiled.

“Everything is fine.”

Dustin froze his ministrations on my arm to wipe a tear away, and Lucas only slowed down a little. Mike started crying more, and I told him to stop. _What are you even playing at, Byers?_

“Mike,”

“No, Will. Everything obviously isn’t fine. Look. Just look at you. Do you even know what you’re saying? You can’t just -”

“Mike.” I held out my hand, and he took it reluctantly. Dustin and Lucas didn’t even laugh. I gave him a tiny smile. “It’s fine. I’m just getting through. And you, you guys, help. I’m still here, right?”

“Just because you’re here doesn’t mean things are okay, Will.”

“Everything was fine a few minutes ago, so why are you -”

“Because I care about you, Will. Do you care about yourself?”

_Of course not. Because you’re just-_

“Trash”

_And,_

“A piece of crap”

_And…._

“A worthless little scrap to be left for-”

“Will, stop it.”

I stop.

“You matter.”

With that, my world shattered, my lip quivered, my hands covered my eyes and mouth, and I sobbed. I gasped, and drooled, and I was just a huge ugly mess, but Lucas, Dustin, and Mike were quick to uncover my face, and wrap my tiny body into their limbs. For once, I didn’t fight it….

It felt like home.

After what felt like hours, they pulled away. Dustin smiled awkwardly, and ruffled my hair. “Do you think one of those shakes might help a little right now?”

I laughed a little, and gave them a few small nods of my head. Mike stood up, and once again offered his hand to me, my wobbling legs depending all of my weight onto his arm.

“What’s your favorite one, the classic cherry, right?” He smiled, tightening his grip on my hand. He wasn’t letting go, and I was okay with that.

“Yeah,” was my lame reply. Somehow, though, it gave a sense of relief to the other three boys. Somehow, they figured that things would turn out to be okay. Somehow, I figured that things would turn out. Even though I knew that they were definitely going to tell my mom. Even though I knew that they were going to interrogate me further later… much later. For now, we could just be thirteen year old boys. For now, we could just get peanut butter, cherry, chocolate, and cookie dough milkshakes. For now, everything would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. Thanks for reading. That was an adventure. Haha. Anyways, I was not meaning to romanticize depression in any way. It was not an excuse to get Byler together. It was not an excuse to show their friendship. I honestly wanted to make the boys' reactions a little more realistic to pre-teen/teenage boys in that situation, but I couldn't find the words to do so. Maybe in the future, I'll revisit it a little when I get better at the craft, but for now, just don't take it personally. Thanksies!


End file.
